


whiskey in the jar

by andibeth82



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Bars and Pubs, Drinking, Ficlet, Fluff and Crack, Gen, It's not his fault Bucky and Nat have shared life experiences, Language Barrier, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Steve just wants to learn Russian
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-20
Updated: 2014-04-20
Packaged: 2018-01-20 04:41:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1497019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/andibeth82/pseuds/andibeth82
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A soldier and two former soviet spies walk into a bar, get drunk, and try to teach each other Russian.</p>
            </blockquote>





	whiskey in the jar

**Author's Note:**

> There's really no rhyme or reason for this, other than [I had a conversation with a friend](http://isjustprogress.tumblr.com/post/83113337614/intrikate88-is-all-im-going-to-write-this-super) and then decided I needed a slight cracky ficlet to break up the feelings that have been killing my soul since Winter Soldier.
> 
>  [Originally posted on Tumblr here.](http://isjustprogress.tumblr.com/post/83331359011/i-couldnt-help-it-so-im-gonna-tide-you-all)

“Why are we taking a cab?” Steve asks as Natasha steps onto the sidewalk, throwing up her arm, and he stops himself from asking how she can stand on her own two feet with marginal swaying after their pregame because she’s _Natasha,_ that’s why.

“Rogers. There is no way we’re driving tonight,” she says as if it’s the most obvious answer in the world, and Bucky comes up behind him, slinging an arm around Steve’s shoulder.

“You remember drinking in the war, don’t you?” he asks with a grin, and Steve groans into the stagnant summer air.

“I never actually drank, okay? Despite what lies you told in the field to get me girls, I made sure my troops were safe.”

“Sure you did,” Bucky says with a knowing smile, and Steve rolls his eyes as a yellow cab slows to a stop in front of them. “Besides, you promised me that you’d take me out and show me how the modern world celebrates things like coming back from the dead.”

“This is not how I celebrated,” Steve refutes, pulling open the door and sliding inside.

“No, he beat up a lot of punching bags,” Natasha says from the front seat, turning around slightly as she catches his eye and then a furrowed brow. “What? Fury thought it was actually kind of endearing.”

“Yeah, that doesn’t sound like much fun,” Bucky says, slugging him gently on the shoulder, as Natasha gives the cab driver directions and Steve puts his face in his palm.

 

***

 

The first time it happens, they’re each four beers in and Steve thinks it’s a joke, because he’s just returned from the bathroom and he doesn’t put it past the two people in front of him – who they are to each other and who they are to him – to make his life a miserable living hell in a social setting for no reason.

“Do I at least get three guesses as to why I’m your amusement for the night?” Steve asks grumpily as he slides back into his seat. Natasha raises an eyebrow, one hand wrapped around her beer glass.

“You think too much of yourself, Rogers. We were just having a conversation.”

“Which you stopped as soon as I came back to the table,” Steve points out, picking up his own glass and taking a sip. “In case being partners with you for over a year didn’t register, I know how to read people, Natasha.”

“Stop whining and keep drinking,” she shoots back. “I told you, we were just having a conversation.”

“Vmeste,” Bucky adds, and Steve groans, shoving a hand across his face.

“Come on, Buck. You know I have no idea what that means.”

“Maybe we’ll teach you,” Natasha interjects, sharing a smile. “If you’re nice.”

“On vsegda yavlyayetsya,” Bucky adds, and Natasha can’t help herself.

“Vrode,” she says, collapsing into a fit of giggles, and Bucky picks up his own beer.

“This is completely unfair,” Steve whines, throwing his napkin on the table.

“It’s completely fair,” Natasha counters. “Especially when you’ve been at the same bar for five hours.”

“No, it’s not,” Steve replies, glaring across the table. “You guys have about ten years of history on me in every single way, and I’ve only been to Russia once.”

“Don’t sell yourself short. You’re better than most people,” Bucky suggests, reaching for Steve’s hand. “You learn fast.”

“He’s got a point,” Natasha adds, picking up her glass. “Clint went to Russia twice and most days, he still doesn’t know if I’m asking whether he wants me to refill his coffee, or if he wants me to fuck him.”

Steve spits a mouthful of beer over the table and Bucky starts laughing again and even Natasha can’t help it, as an eye roll turns into a snarky grin.

“I don’t want to know,” he says, shaking his head while Bucky uses the lull in the conversation to order them all another round. Natasha starts writing something on a napkin, passing it over with a flourish.

“That should keep you busy for awhile,” she says, leaning back in her chair with an amused grin. Steve squints at the scrawled writing.

“ _Pivo_ ,” he says, trying out the words on his tongue, before making a face. “Please tell me this isn’t a word for fossil or old man or something.”

“Steve,” Natasha says with about as straight a face as she can manage, as Bucky starts laughing besides her. “It means beer. I’m not _that_ cruel.”

**Author's Note:**

> (I probably abused google translate. This is my apology.)
> 
> Title from The Pogues song of the same name.


End file.
